Waiting Without You
by hariboo-smirks
Summary: After he steps into the bedroom he closes the door and leans against it, letting his thoughts take over his brain. It’s about a second before he hears the knock and grimacing he goes to open it, not all that surprised at the person on the other side.


written for the **notjustclosets** ficathon on LJ.

* * *

**Waiting without you **

He's been able to shift and mould everything so far. Everything in him that thought this was a lie, was confirmed when Dax had walked through the door. Some things are harder than others but he adjusts pretty well and they've seemed to work out fine. Looking over to Teyla, who's so far been amused if not sceptical about the whole situation, he feels confident in leaving for a second as he escaped to the inner confines of the house.

After he steps into the bedroom he closes the door and leans against it, letting his thoughts take over his brain. It's about a second before he hears the knock and grimacing he goes to open it, not all that surprised at the person on the other side.

There, looking as poised and elegant as ever, stands Elizabeth in simple jeans and a black boat neck top that displayed her clavicles so wonderfully to his eyes.

"John?" She sounds confused, her voice holding steady and reserved, and John says nothing as he grasps her wrist and drags her into the room.

"Elizabeth?" He questions, as he pulls her flush against him and her arms slip around his waist. "How did you get here?"

Her arms tighten around him and she presses her cheek to his shoulder, "I'm not… I'm not sure. One minute I'm in my house the next thing I know I'm here." She turns her head and lips press against his chin, "The party looks fun."

"Something like that." Chuckling, John pulls her closer and smoothes his hand up her back to cup her neck. Elizabeth's head tilts with his hand and when he presses their lips together she opens readily, an invite to a question he hadn't asked. His fingers squeeze around her neck and Elizabeth's arms pull him closer, her tongue sweeping across his bottom lip.

John groans at the sensation, especially when her tongue sneaks into his mouth and her hand slide up from his waist to push into his hair, fingers tangling in his hair. His hands pull her closer, desperately pressing his entire length, hips to chest, and lips against hers. Elizabeth responds with an equal urgency the hands in his hair clinging roughly, her fingernails scrapping at his scalp, the hand resting on her waist palms its way down to the curve of her ass and his fingers dig into the denim and he feels Elizabeth moan into his mouth, and her body bending into his.

She is pliant in his arms, her hands the only thing that really have a grip on him as the rest of her body moulds to his. Manoeuvring them he drops back to the bed behind them, pulling Elizabeth on top of him. They separate as they move on the bed and she grins widely, moving to straddle him more comfortably. Her hands have left his hair and are now busy rubbing random patterns on his blue jacket.

"Elizabeth, come here," he growls out pulling her closer, but she just sits still on his waist and then ducks her head, licking her way up his jaw.

"Don't you just want to stay here, forever?" She licks by his ear and it's like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over him.

He tenses under her. "You're not Elizabeth." He bites out, hands clenching tightly at his side before he roughly pushes her away and closes his eyes for a brief second, scolding himself, before he moves off the bed. Going to the door he storms out of the room, not even glancing back at the shocked look he knows must be on her face.

When he gets to back to the party he is not shocked when "Elizabeth" does not follow him. It's time to stop this little game.

* * *

After the debriefing John hangs around with Rodney for a few minutes, half listening to the man ramble on about his cat and he should have know because his never was never that nice to him. Nodding at Rodney's words, his eyes follow Elizabeth to her office. She's been too silent since their return, not that he's been any better. Knowing he has to wait until he feels like he will not loose complete control and for her to start looking him in the eye again, John follows Rodney to dinner.

Few hours later, he makes his way back to the control room. It's late, but he's sure she is there. When he gets there, he sees Peter and gets a nod to the balcony. There is no one else but the essential personnel and silently thanking Peter makes his way out to the balcony.

Elizabeth is standing without her jacket and even though it's relatively warm, the sea breeze and the height of the tower adds to the wind chill. He knows she's cold, she's always cold, he's noticed but it gives him an excuse to keep her warm to he takes it. Right now, he just steps over and wraps an arm around her waist. Elizabeth sighs and lets her head fall to his shoulder. He rubs the space between neck and shoulder quietly relishing in the solid feel of Elizabeth next to him. Everything in that dream world had felt too light, even her weight on his hips, but here, her head feels heavy against his shoulder as does the swell of her hip under his hand.

He feels her shift closer to him, and her words are light. "It felt wrong. You weren't there."

His lips press against the smooth skin of her neck and begin kissing a path down and across her jaw line. "It wasn't you." John whispers as his hand sneaks across her belly and dips below the waistband of her pants, "I saw you, for a few minutes – Teyla doesn't know. But it wasn't you." He is trying to go slow, like he had planned in the dream world, but after the day they've had he is too rushed to feel her. The real her, not some conjured image of Elizabeth. He stops his hand, fingers hovering over the waistband of her underwear, waiting. Elizabeth seems to know he is waiting for her go ahead because she turns her head and meets lips in deep kiss, her hand covering his, urging him on. She must have missed him too, because she very rarely lets herself go this easily, especially where they can get caught so easily. The though spurs him on.

"John…" Elizabeth breaths as his fingers push into her underwear and her other hand move backwards to fist in his hair. He breaks of the kiss, working his way down her neck again when he gets to her pulse point and he bites her shoulder, softly, bringing his other arm around her, pulling her closer and pushing her shirt up, gently cupping one breast, caressing it through her bra.

"It wasn't you." He repeats and Elizabeth bucks into his hand, her own still covering his, guiding his fingers and together they add another finger.

Her hips are rocking faster, her ass pressing against his hard-on, and she pulls on his hair, bringing their lips together again. He's kissing her, working his tongue in her mouth. Her body is tensing in under his hands, she's close, he know, and carefully tweaking a nipple through her bra he feels her fall apart. He catches her moan in his mouth and feels as she slumps in his arms and he removes their fingers.

Kissing her gently, he waits for her to come back to herself, and when she does she separates them and turns to face him, fixing her shirt and pants. She's flushed under the Lantean night's sky and he want to lay her out, right here on the balcony's floor, and have he come apart because of him again. As if she know what's he's thinking she looks down at his still prominent bulge and furtively glances at the balcony doors and tenses.

"We shouldn't have done that. Not here."

John sighs, "Too late for that now, and it looked like you need it too." He arranges himself and removes his jacket, "Plus what are odd you going to be anytime soon?" He lets the insinuation hover in the air. She doesn't always let him in, usually by staying in her office until even he gets tired of waiting.

"That's not the point, John." She crosses her arms and licks her lips, "what if someone heard us?"

"It's only Peter there right now, he wouldn't say anything anyway."

"Still," Elizabeth half glares, because it's an unofficial understanding between them of who they can bend the rules of command around and she knows if it was anyone else but Peter there, he wouldn't have gone so far.

Smirking, knowing she has her, because she's bent the rules around Peter more than once, John moves forward closing the space between them. "Now," he bends to giver he a quick kiss, "I'm heading of to bed. The question is your quarters or mine?"

Her hand go to his chest and push him away, but he can see her eyes already growing dark, probably with thoughts of payback. "I have the bigger bed."

With one last quick kiss, John leaves the balcony, holding his jacket in front of him, knowing that he doesn't have to worry about feeling home sick anymore.


End file.
